


Puppy Love

by KitsJay



Category: The Magicians (TV)
Genre: M/M, kinkmeme fill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-18
Updated: 2017-03-18
Packaged: 2018-10-07 11:23:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10359339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KitsJay/pseuds/KitsJay
Summary: Fill for prompt on the kinkmeme here: https://magicianskinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/1477.html?thread=965#cmt965Penny knows exactly when Quentin starts crushing on him, and his usual "drown out Quentin's annoying thoughts with dubstep" strategy doesn't seem to be working.





	1. Chapter 1

He gets it. Really, he does. Quentin had his little High School Musical audition while he was stuck in his own head, Penny heard, they shared a moment, huzzah. All was well with Brakebills again, so why the _fuck_ was Quentin Cold-fucking-water still singing Taylor Swift in his head?

“Seriously, man?” Penny snapped after the third round of “Love Story” performed off-key. And Quentin couldn’t even sing on-key in his own head? What the hell was that about?

“Sorry,” Quentin said, and to his credit, he did look sorry, but that was also kind of his default look, so Penny’s not sure what to do with it. Ignoring it sounded like a good plan. Quentin pushed his hair back and shot Penny a nervous look from behind a stack of books. 

“That’s what you said the last time,” Penny said, throwing his notebook on the cramped library table and falling into the chair. He switched off his music, the heavy dubstep beat still coming through strong even with his headphones off. “Strengthen. Your Damn. Wards.”

“Right, right, I will, sorry – “ Quentin muttered. He refused to make eye contact with Penny, shuffling his papers around instead, and Penny had a minute to think, _What the hell is going on with him now?_ when he… _heard_ something. Oh. Oh, fuck no.

“You’re kidding me, right?” he said disbelievingly. 

Quentin looked trapped, eyes gone wide and scared, and he stumbled over what might have been an apology.

Hearing other people’s thoughts wasn’t always a bad thing. It got downright annoying, listening to everyone thinking things like, “I need to pick up milk,” and “Would baking soda work on this? I need to Google that tonight”, and sometimes he thought it was going to drive him around the bend, but it had its benefits occasionally. He never had the ‘does she-doesn’t she’ when he was working on crushes in middle school, and in high school, he knew that the defensive lineman for the high school team was, in fact, gay, and wasn’t going to pound Penny into a pulp for wanting to get him some of that.

And here he was, and poor little white boy Quentin was nursing a full-on puppy-love crush on him.

He started laughing. Quentin looked stricken. 

“Wait, no –" Penny started, but Quentin has already shoved all of his books into his bag and taken off before Penny can finish.

Well, fuck.


	2. Chapter 2

Apparently, Quentin _did_ know how to strengthen his wards, because he disappeared so completely that Penny’s usual method of follow-the-inane-lyrics to find the source has gone on the fritz. Brakebills isn’t massive, but it does have the benefit of having actual, honest-to-God mazes, hidden away cubbies, and clubhouses that have a seriously stupid method of keeping people out.

“C’mon!” Penny banged on the door again. He could hear Eliot and Margo laughing, probably half-drunk already, inside, and he rolled his eyes. Fucking Physical kids. “Seriously?”

“What’s the password?” Margo’s voice drifted to him, followed by a stream of muffled laughter.

“I’ll owe you a bottle of Scotch,” Penny offered.

There was silence, then some thumping sounds and an indignant, “Ow!”, before the door popped open. Eliot leaned against it nonchalantly, looking like he had been waiting there for years. On closer inspection, it was clear that he was using the doorframe to prop himself up. His eyes were glazed and Penny smelled a whiff of pot somewhere from inside.

“Scotch?” Eliot said with well-bred disdain. “What are we, heathens?”

“Darling, no one drinks Scotch outside of sad old men with nothing better to do,” Margo said, smoothing her dress as she sashayed closer. She gave Penny a pitying look. “You’ll have to do better than that.”

“Fuck, I don’t know, what do you want?”

Eliot and Margo exchanged one of their creepy twin glances, then turned back to him.

“You can travel anywhere, yes?”

“Within limits,” Penny answered warily. He really didn’t like where this was going.

“Excellent,” Eliot said with a shark’s smile. “I’ll draw you a map. There’s a charming little monastery outside of Nikko. You’ll love it.”

“The monks there-"

“Are they called monks in Japan?” Eliot said thoughtfully, tapping his chin.

“Whatever,” Margo said dismissively. “The whatever-the-fuck they call monks in Japan have a sake that only they can make. They make fifty bottles a year.”

“And drink most of them themselves,” Eliot put in.

“Five bottles and we’ll let you in,” Margo said. Penny had heard somewhere that her parents were lawyers. Penny believed it. There was a hard tone in her voice that said she was used to negotiating.

Luckily, Penny learned negotiation from the best. Not lawyers, no, but conmen and swindlers and every other guy trying to make a quick buck on the street. “One bottle.”

“One?” Margo said, outraged. “One won’t even last an hour in this place! Four.”

“Two,” Penny said. “Last offer.”

“One for each of us, Bambi,” Eliot said. Margo looked like she wanted to argue some more, but Penny knew that Eliot had a soft spot for Quentin, who was no doubt hiding in his room. Eliot waved his hand magnanimously and slumped against the door. Inside was a riot of half-eaten food, empty bottles, and yup, definitely a joint or two. “Welcome to Chez Physique.”

Penny pushed past him, ignoring the muttered, “Rude”, and headed upstairs.


	3. Chapter 3

Quentin was, as expected, huddled up in his room. Penny didn’t bother knocking, just threw open the door. Quentin didn’t even bother looking up. 

“No, Eliot, I need to get this done for tomorrow.”

Penny took the opportunity to lean against the doorframe and stare at Quentin for a minute. He wasn’t a bad looking guy, not really – big brown eyes, strong jawline, and hair that Penny could imagine running his hands through and using to hold Quentin in place. If the guy weren’t so - _him_ , Penny might have even gone for it when they first met. It’s not like he knew he was going to be whisked off to some crazy magical college when he turned down that alley, and truth was, he hadn’t been laid in a while. It would have been nice to take the edge off. But then Quentin had opened his mouth – or his mind – and all Penny could think was, _God, does this guy ever shut up?_ and that had been the end of that particular little fantasy.

Quentin apparently realized that whoever was there hadn’t left, and pushed his hair back in a quick, exasperated movement, and tore his eyes away from his homework to tell Eliot off. His voice caught when he saw Penny standing there instead, and Penny couldn’t suppress a small smirk at catching him off-guard.

“Oh! Uh, shit, uh, I thought –“

“I was Eliot, I know,” Penny said, strolling into the room leisurely. He moved to the dresser, flipping a book over to examine its cover. _Fillory and Further_. Of course. Tossing the book back down, he went over to the bed, stretching out, his left knee brushing Quentin’s, back leaned against the headboard.

“I – look, I’m sorry, I didn’t –" Quentin was still stumbling over his words, and Penny inwardly rolled his eyes.

“So. If I looked in your notebooks, would I see Mrs. Quentin Adiyodi written with little hearts around it?” 

Quentin looked away, blushing. It was almost too easy to rile the guy, Penny had a minute to think, before he saw Quentin’s shoulders straighten and his jawline twitch.

“Look, I’m sorry, okay?” Quentin said, still not making eye contact. “I wasn’t – I didn’t mean for it to happen.”

“Tell me, was it the throwing you against the wall? Got some fantasies you want to share?” Penny said.

“God, you are such a dick,” Quentin ground out. He finally looked up at Penny, and his eyes were flashing. There he is, Penny thought with satisfaction. “Trust me, you are the last person on this, this campus or anywhere, that I would have – "

That was enough of that. Penny surged forward, heard paper tearing underneath his knee, and used his weight to bear Quentin down on the bed. Quentin’s lips were soft with surprise under his, hands grasping at Penny’s arms for one second before they curled around his wrist in a warm bracelet. Penny gentled the kiss, waiting for Quentin to go slack beneath him, before breaking it. He pulled back just far enough to see Quentin’s face, panting and red-faced and eyes closed like he’s afraid this is going to turn out to be another dream, beneath him. Quentin’s eyes opened and Penny smirked at him.

“So there is a way to shut you up,” he remarked.

Quentin didn’t bother responding. He pulled at Penny’s wrist, throwing him off-balance, until he was resting chest-to-chest against him and Penny retaliated by grinding down. Quentin let out a moan and bucked his hips up, desperate for that contact again. Pretty soon they had a rhythm going, and shit, Penny hadn’t come in his pants since high school, but it felt too good to stop, and it has been way too long. His fingers fumbled between them, undoing belts and buttons until he could just shove their boxers down to get some skin-to-skin contact. Quentin's head fell back, knocking against the headboard, and he groaned a little before rolling his hips again. 

Quentin came first, gasping into his mouth, little tremors running through him as he rode his orgasm out. Penny followed soon after, fingers clamping down on the bedspread and his teeth clashing against Quentin’s as he finished. 

It was easy to forget that Penny hadn’t actually closed the door behind him. Or it was, anyway, until there was a smattering of polite clapping behind them.

Penny and Quentin jerked up, staring wide-eyed at Margo and Eliot as they finished their ironic clapping. 

“9 points for passion, 2 for technique,” Eliot deadpanned.

“9 points seems a little generous,” Margo said. “I would have to say 7.”

“Oh, but it’s our little Quentin, discovering the sex for the first time,” Eliot pointed out dryly. 

“It is not – for fuck’s sake, I am not a virgin!”

“Well, not anymore.”

Penny opted not to take any part in this little charade and instead chucked a pillow at them. “Get the fuck out!”

He heard Margo and Eliot discussing buying a cake for their boy’s deflowering as they wandered down the stairs and waited until their voices were completely gone before burying his face in the sheets. A tentative hand came up to rest on his back and he turned his head to look at Quentin. 

“Next time, we are doing this at my place.”

“Wait, uh, next time, so –" Quentin babbled.

Penny pulled him down by his hair and kissed him until he shut up. 

Well, it certainly worked better than dubstep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eep! It's been a while since I wrote anything not grad-school related, but I hope it was okay! Come play with us on the kinkmeme: https://magicianskinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/


End file.
